The Forgotten Lock
by Kandakicksass
Summary: Adrian Ivashkov always locks his door. Unfortunately, it's hard to remember things like that when otherwise occupied...


**You'll notice I took scenes **_**exactly **_**from the books (and I mean dialogue wise). :D But hey, check it out! Adrian/Dimitri!! And one more thing. Dimitri and Adrian are slightly OOC. Just thought I'd warn you. Anyway, a few things:**

**Warnings: yaoi. Slash. BL. Moe. However the hell you want to put it, it all amounts to the same thing. BOY FUCKS BOY. No likie no readie, comprehende?**

**Disclaimer: FUCK the goddamn disclaimer. I'm not Richelle Mead, as I think we all know. **

**Extra warning: If you flame me, I flame you back. TWICE AS HARD. If you don't like me writing Vampire Academy slash, or the pairing, why don't you got fuck yourself and write your own fics? I won't flame if I don't get flamed. And trust me—I can find stuff to flame about. **

Adrian Ivashkov always locked his door.

That was one of his little unnecessary quirks. Because when somebody stole from a vampire, that vampire would always know. And if it was stupid to steal from a vampire, it was even stupider to steal from a vampire royal. And if _that _was stupid, only a flat out dumbass would be stupid enough to steal from the favorite nephew of the queen.

In a society like the Moroi world, everyone was high-class, respectful and powerful. Stealing only proved that you could not get something yourself. And that was shameful.

Knowing this, Adrian only did it for some attempt at… what was that word? Normalcy? Of course, it was the norm for him, but… oh, he couldn't explain it. He didn't quite know himself. He just felt better when his door was locked, whether it was his bedroom door or his hotel room door. If it had him or his possessions behind it, it would be locked.

"Hello, Master Ivashkov!" a maid greeted him, dropping the handle of her trolley to bow. He inclined his head, smiling. She seemed swept up in his moss green eyes, making the royal smirk. He tucked his hands in his pocket, looking cocky. Of course, Adrian always looked like that. He could hear the jiggling of a doorknob and she called after him, sounding confused. He paused at the elevator, turning around to watch the woman fumble with the locked door, then gave her a little wave with his gloved hand.

Upon turning around, he knocked into a hard chest and fell flat on his back. His eyes snapped open and he gave the road block a dark glare.

His eyes were met with chocolate brown ones and a teasing smile. Dimitri Belikov smiled down at him, amused, and held out a hand. Growling internally, Adrian took it.

"Ivashkov," Belikov greeted him, trying to hide his smirk. Adrian flushed and stepped past him into the elevator. He would have to avoid running into him again. His pride would not allow for it.

***

Adrian made his way through the party. Or, as he liked to put it, a 'collection of mindless idiots who thought they could change the world in little ways'. His father included.

"Is that goose liver?" a familiar voice said, sounding queazy. He smiled, making his way through the familiar politicians.

"Sweetbread," a lighter, sweeter voice corrected. Adrian got to Lissa and Rose just in time to see Rose reach for one off a platter. Smirking, he elaborated.

"It's pancreas."

"What?" Rose squeaked, turning to Adrian. She looked slightly sick and he forced down a chuckle. "Are you messing with me? 'Sweetbread' is _pancreas_?"

The twenty-one year old shrugged nonchalantly, still trying not to laugh at her disgusted, slightly appalled expression.

"It's really good."

Rose shook her head in revulsion. "Oh, man. Rich people suck." He allowed himself a smirk; Rose really was a crack up. Simply too funny!

"What are you doing here, little damphir? Are you following me around?" I teased, getting more and more amused. She raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not," she scoffed, checking Adrian out. He was dressed to perfection, he knew, as always. "Especially not after all the trouble you've gotten us into."

Adrian flashed both girls one of his brilliant smile. Unlike most Moroi, instead of hiding his teeth behind his lips with small, unrevealing smiles, he preferred to grin widely, flashing fang at whoever the grin was directed at. Unconsciously, he thought, Rose shifted toward him.

"I don't know," he said playfully. "As many times as we keep seeing each other? This is, what, the fifth time? It's starting to look suspicious. Don't worry, though. I won't tell your boyfriend. Either of them." She looked taken aback, slightly ticked off, and slightly embarrassed.

"I only have _one _boyfriend," she protested. "Sort of. Maybe not anymore. And anyway, there's nothing to tell. I don't even like you."

Adrian leaned in a bit, flashing her a dazzling smile. "No? Then why are you wearing my perfume?" As if to emphasize his point, he took a deep whiff. He had to admit, it smelled almost appallingly luscious on her.

"I'm not."

"Of course you are," he laughed. "I counted the boxes after you left. Besides, I can smell in on you. It's nice. Sharp… but still sweet—just like I'm sure you are deep down inside." Adrian's voice had a teasing lift to it and her blush deepened. "And you got it right, you know. Just enough to add an edge… but not enough to drown your own scent." Calming, she flipped her hair.

"Hey. I had every right to take one. You offered them. Your mistake is in assuming me taking one means anything. It doesn't. Except that maybe you should be more careful with where you dump all that money of yours," she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. "Ooh, Rose Hathaway is here to play, folks." Adrian paused and snagged a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter. "You want one?"

"I don't drink." Her hard voice suggested that she was getting pissed.

"Right," he snorted, handing her a glass and shooing the waiter away. Adrian took a quick look at the Russian guardian standing across the room. As soon as their eyes met, Dimitri's lips curled upward and Adrian flushed for a second, before forcing the color back to normal to face Rose again. He didn't know what Belikov was planning but it could _not _be good. "So. Sounds like our Vasilisa put my dad in his place," he said as casually as he could.

Lissa blinked and Rose looked at the silver haired old man they'd argued with just minutes before.

"Your… that guy's your dad?"

"That's what my mom says," Adrian shrugged.

"You agree with him? About how Moroi fighting would be suicide?"

Adrian shrugged again and took another sip. "I don't really have an opinion on that."

"That's not possible," Rose argued. "How can you not feel one way or another?"

Adrian sighed. "Dunno. Just not something I think about. I've got better things to do." Her eyebrows rose.

"Like stalk me," she suggested. He smirked. "And Lissa."

"I told you, you're the one following me."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Five times—" she stopped, confusion evident in her expression. His smile widened; was she finally getting it?

He nodded.

"No, it's only been four." She held up a hand to count them. "There was that first night, the night at the spa, then when I came to your room, and now tonight."

Adrian's smile turned simply mysterious, though he was disappointed. "If you say so."

"I _do _say so…." Her eyes widened and his grin followed suit. Maybe she _was _getting it. "You can't mean…"

"Mean what?" he asked, excited. He was getting his hopes up, he knew, but perhaps…

"Nothing."

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, hiding his frustration that she'd dropped the subject.

"Because Lissa's still over there, working that crowd." He turned. He hadn't noticed Lissa had left.

"No surprise there. She's one of those people who can charm anyone she wants if she tries hard enough. Even people who hate her," he commented, taking a sip of the alcohol.

"I feel that way when I talk to you," she said wryly.

"But you don't hate me," he said, downing the last of the champagne. "Not really."

"I don't like you, either."

"So you keep saying," Adrian agreed, raising an eyebrow. "But I can live with that," he added, stepping closer.

"Rose!"

He backed up. Oh, crap. Janine Hathaway? That woman did _not _like him _at _all.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Rose looked taken aback.

"Nothing, I—"

"Excuse us, Lord Ivashkov," she growled. Adrian stepped aside as she dragged Rose out of the room.

"Respectful much?" he muttered, watching them go. He sighed, looking at his empty glass. "Oh, hell. It's time to go."

***

Adrian left the party, sighing. Rose had almost just gotten it! She'd come _this _close to figuring it out. Couldn't Janine have perhaps waited? He could have her arrested for being rude. Or, he could have her shamefully lectured—who knows what gossip that would spring. She's just heard one too many stories about him, he supposed…

"Hey, Ivashkov!"

The sound of Belikov's voice created multiple reactions in Adrian's body. First, he seemed to instantly sport a massive headache. Second, his face lit up like the fourth of July. And third? Well, there was a rather impressive show in between his legs, which (thankfully) the dress jacket of his tux covered. Hoping to cover his embarrassment and arousal with attitude, Adrian cocked his head.

"Well, if it isn't the all-mighty Guardian Belikov. Done flirting with Rose yet?" It wasn't the wittiest comeback, but it was better than simply standing there with a tent in his pants and lust in his eyes.

Dimitri looked like sex personified in his all-black outfit. Smirking, the guardian crossed his arms.

"Well, _Lord _Ivashkov…" Dimitri said. "Or rather, how about this? I'll call _you _Adrian if you call me Dimitri. Deal?" Adrian's name came out a sultry purr, causing his erection to become barely visible and his cheeks to flame. A small glance down told him that he was already wet, too wet. There was a damp patch coating the bulge in his slacks.

"Dimitri, huh?" Adrian drawled, slight panic in his voice. "How about _Dimka_? Tasha Ozera seems pretty comfortable calling you that. Not that I can say the same for Rose." Dimitri's smirk widened.

"Dimka's fine… _Adri_." Adrian blushed. He was actually starting to resemble a tomato, something he was _not _proud of. Further down the hall, they could see Rose and her mother arguing. Suddenly, Rose broke away, dashing down the hall and out of sight. Dimitri's expression became one of d uty, and sending Adrian one last flirty smirk, he brushed his palm against Adrian's groin and went after her. Effectively paralyzed, Adrian slid against and down the wall, his wide green eyes trained on Dimitri's back. He needed a shower. Like, _now_.

***

"Oooh…" Adrian shuddered, images of the Russian "god" flashing to the front of his mind. His hand tightened around his engorged cock and risked a look down. Groaning, he looked up again. The head of his erection was almost purple with arousal, leaking quite nicely. He swiped his finger over the slit, his breathing ragged, his moans getting louder. With a shriek, he came suddenly, coating his hand and the shower tile in cum. "Fuuuck!" he whined. "This is _so _not good!"

Washing himself over lightly, Adrian sighed. Just when had he fallen for him? He'd been bisexual all his life, but never before had he been this far gone for just one person. Him and Belikov had run into each other several times during their stay at the resort, all of which with a certain intensity.

Adrian stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel and musing his hair with it. After successfully drying his brown locks, he wrapped the towel around his waist, exiting the bathroom and stepping into the bedroom. Forgoing any sort of undergarment whatsoever, Adrian slipped on a pair of cotton pajama bottoms. Sighing, he plopped down on the bed. He was so _tired. _Happily wrapping up in the sheets, he fell asleep, hoping for a chance to rest.

***

Tch. No such luck.

Dream-weaving, as he liked to call it, was often unintentional. His "spirit" simply sought out who he most wanted to invade at the time and let his consciousness slip into the other's. Unfortunately, it often picked a particularly stressful time to do it.

"Adrian?"

He sighed. _Why? _he asked himself. He turned to look at Dimitri.

"Hello, _Dimka_," he said in a tone that suggested snideness but was merely exhaustion. Dimitri threw him an erotic smile.

"I must say, dreaming is a nice thing," he commented, giving the meadow they were in a once over. Adrian flushed. "Seeing as you're not really here—"

Adrian scoffed at him. "Sure, I am." He didn't feel like explaining, and in truth, he didn't really want to. Dimitri slid closer and nuzzled Adrian's neck. He'd had to bend down to do it, seeing as he was a good six inches taller than Adrian, and the latter had to raise his jaw, but he did it.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Dimitri whispered sensually into the crook of Adrian's neck. "Do you know what you _do _to me?"

"No," Adrian whispered, bringing his hands up to clutch at Dimitri's back. He was only wearing a pair of jeans, which was quite a turn on for Adrian. "Why don't you tell me?" Dimitri tugged Adrian down by his hips, bringing them down on their knees so Dimitri could push Adrian into the grass.

"I'll think of you and get so hard I can barely think," he offered. "I'll stay up all night, just thinking of all the things I could do to that _naughty _body of yours." He punctuated the word by stroking Adrian's leather-clad crotch. Wait a second—leather? Yes, he was wearing black leather. His chest, too, was bare.

Dimitri's tongue slid down his neck until his mouth latched onto one pale nipple. Adrian arched against Dimitri's mouth. Dimitri's eyes found his face, that pretty chocolate brown darkening with arousal. Dimitri's hand cupped his hardness and he just wanted more—

Adrian woke with a start.

"Damn it!" he growled to no one. Something had woken Dimitri. He sighed, sinking into the pillows. Now he had a problem in his lower section and no one to relieve it. He supposed he could take another shower, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy him anymore. No, he had to find—

BAM BAM BAM

Adrian stood suddenly, checking his phone for the time. It was eleven thirty at night! Who the hell…? He walked into the main room, opening the door.

"Listen, it's too late, so whatever you're selling I don't want—"

A pair of hot lips assaulted Adrian's and his tired eyes snapped open. He pulled back to stare a lusty Dimitri in the face. His eyes were almost black and Adrian could feel Dimitri's cock against his lower stomach. And damn, was it huge!

"I told you," Dimitri hissed between furious kisses. "I can't control myself when it comes to you. I came in my sleep. That's what woke me up. And now you are going to relieve my little situation." Each snippet of information was precise and punctuated with a kiss against his jaw, his throat, his lips.

"You knew?" Adrian whispered.

"What?"

"That it wasn't a dream," he clarified weakly. Dimitri nodded.

"We'll get to the why's and how's later. Right now I want to fuck you," he demanded, kicking the door shut. They didn't make it as far as the bedroom; Adrian and Dimitri collapsed on the floor.

Dimitri—obviously the impatient sort—slid his hands into Adrian's pajama pants, squeezing the half-hard flesh and teasing it until it was standing straight at attention for him, the head even darker than it had been when Adrian had been in the shower.

Adrian propped himself up on his hands, looking down at Dimitri through desperate, humiliated eyes. He was so embarrassed, but he couldn't tell him to stop. He wanted this. Dammit, he _needed _this. Dimitri sucked one already hard nub into his mouth, biting it then sucking lightly. The different sensations, both so deep, just made him harder, just so much closer. Adrian reached down, cupping Dimitri's straining erection. He was just about to unzip Dimitri's tight jeans when the door opened.

Rose stepped halfway into the room before turning beat red.

"Well, well, Dimitri," she spluttered. "This is so fucking Brokeback Mountain it isn't even funny. Now I know what's up with those cowboy novels." She laughed at her own joke, turning around. "I'll just leave you two alone then."

The door shut again and Dimitri's head swung around so he could give Adrian a look that clearly said 'shit'. Adrian, looking guilty, gave him a weak smile.

"I forgot to lock the door."

Oh well, he sighed internally as Dimitri pulled them both up so they could go to the bed. At least now people could stop saying he was paranoid. There was a good reason to lock the door, after all.

***rolls on floor laughing* **

**Didn't I once say that my stories were getting longer? Instead, they've just gotten shorter! This one is barely three thousand words! Oh, well. At least it's funny, right? LOL My poor babies… they've **_**deteriorated**_**. Either way, I'm so sorry it's so short.**

**Dimitri: HELL YEAH THEY'VE DETERIORATED!**

**Adrian: Pippa! God dammit, why must you yaoi-ify EVERYTHING!?!?!?**

**Pippa: Because it's fun.**

**Neji: This is getting strange.**

**Pippa: I agree. Wrong series, bud.**

**Neji: You owe me!**

**Pippa: for what?**

**Neji: For fucking not walking out on you when you paired me with **_**Sasuke**_**.**

**Pippa: … Long story, folks. The bottom line is, Nej', I deleted that **_**ages **_**ago!!**

**Neji: *pouts***

**Adrian: What about me? Why isn't anyone talking to me?**

**Dimitri: oh, don't worry about that. I'll give you all the attention you need. *purrs***

**Adrian: Oh, Dimka… ~blush~**

**Pippa: Neji! Get the camera!**

**Anyway, I decided I must shock all my friends by writing Dimi/Adri smut. Well, sort of. Lime. Ah, well… :D**

**For fans of my Kyo/Yuki fic "The Difference Was That I Loved Him", I'm posting the last chapter of that right about now—so look out for it!**

**Kandakicksass is OUT, ya'll!**


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